I see you looking at me out of the corner of your eye mullet man.
Watch me light my Satin cigarette, being careful not to catch my meticulously coiffed mile high bangs on fire with the cheap Pump Mart lighter whose flame can’t be controlled.
You should know I’m just like this cheap Pump Mart lighter because my flame can’t be controlled either. I burn bright and hot.
And I look hot too, in these pink and black checked Zena jeans with the black bandana tied around my wrist.
I know you noticed the bandana as I tipped up my Bartles & Jaymes wine cooler to take a sip.
I can tell just by looking at you, in your glued on 501’s and Motley Crue t-shirt and high top tennis shoes, that if we get together our relationship would play out like a Bon Jovi ballad.
Strut those tight pants over here
and kiss me with your Mickey’s Big Mouth breath before I change my mind
and take a walk on the preppy side with the guy in the polo with the popped collar.